


a moment you'll never remember

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A Time-Capsule AU, Everyone Has Their Own Parts, M/M, They're All American af, Third-Person Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm Zayn Malik and the date is June 3rd, 2015. This is my piece for the senior time capsule that won't be opened until the year 2025." </p><p>or where everyone's a senior in high school and these are their time-capsule pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a moment you'll never remember

**Author's Note:**

> Over 5,000 words of shit. 
> 
> This is the worst thing I've ever posted on here. 
> 
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Title from 'Hallelujah' by Panic! At The Disco.

Zayn has trouble deciding where to film his.

His house is too cluttered, the school is too boring, and the music shop is too loud.

He's only got three days to decide, film, and edit his piece, but he's not too worried. He'll get it done. He always does.

He answers his phone when it rings on June second with a scoff.

"Tommo, have you done your time-capsule piece-thingy yet?" Is this first thing he asks.

"No." Louis laughs. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Oh," Zayn snorts. "We could do it together, if you'd like?"

Zayn's more motivated to get shit done than Louis. It's just how it's always been.

"Yeah, that sounds great. Your place?"

"Hell no." Zayn shakes his head. "You know how my mom is."

"Ugh. Fine. My place, then. Tomorrow after school." Louis says and then shouts, "Why does no one in this godforsaken house know how to keep their grimy little paws off my food?!"

"Fizz still doing everything you do?" Zayn grins, fond.

Louis' sister has decided very recently that she wants to be exactly like him. And that includes eating all of his special non-meat meats because Louis is a strict vegetarian.

Zayn finds it adorable and sweet, and Louis probably does too, but he'd never admit that.

"Yes!" Louis says, loud. "I can't even have fucking veggie burgers to myself anymore!"

"That's your fault for being a vegetarian." Zayn snickers because he can.

Louis will probably hit him for that later.

"Shut your mouth, Malik, or I might have to make you." Louis snaps. "I'll stuff my veggie burgers so far up your fucking—"

Zayn distinctively hears the sound of Louis' mother scolding him and he laughs.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry." Louis says, sounding so unapologetic that Zayn cackles even harder. "I won't say the F-word in front of innocents again."

"Oh, Lord." Zayn says after the other line is silent. "I love your mother."

"I hate you." Louis whispers, angry.

"Love you, too, Lou!" Zayn chirps, grinning like an idiot.

God, he really does love Louis' family.

//

The next day, Zayn walks home with Louis, camera from the AV department in hand.

It's usually a quick walk because Louis lives only a few houses away, but Louis is walking extra slow from a 'footie injury'.

Zayn thinks that it's total shit.

"What're you gonna say in yours?" Louis asks, kicking at a large rock.

It goes skittering into the road where a car drives by and sends it flying again.

"Probably just basics. Stuff I might forget as I age." Zayn shrugs.

"Are we filming them as one? Or two?"

"Two, if you don't mind. That way if one of us croaks, we won't have to sit through the torture."

Zayn's always been more than a bit morbid. And sad.

"Sounds like a plan, my man." Louis cracks a wide grin.

"You can first, mate." Zayn says as the walk up the driveway to Louis' house.

"Nah. I've gotta plan mine out so I don't fuck it up. You go."

Zayn's not one to argue, so he agrees.

Louis leads him to the backyard because it's such a nice day and Zayn sets the camera on a tripod.

He glances behind him, making sure there's nothing too disastrous, and turns on the camera.

"Hi. I'm Zayn Malik and I'm seventeen years old. Um, you're probably so different from what you used to be, but right now, your favourite song is, ah, 'Cecilia and the Satellite' by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness and your favourite band is undecided because there's too many to chose from.

"Your family means the world to you, but they often get on your nerves and challenge you. You love them anyway.

"Your favourite teachers are Miss. Edwards because she's hot as fuck and Mr. Green because he's old as fuck. You surround yourself with the best people in the world and you definitely don't deserve them." Zayn breaks off to smile at Louis. "Your best-friend, aka Louis Tomlinson, is rad as fuck and a wonderful example of that."

Louis grins, proud, flushing, and flashes his face in front of the camera.

"You, Zayn Malik, are probably out of college, and living in excessive debt and pizza with a girlfriend or boyfriend. Hopefully, it's that guy you've had your eye on since forever," Zayn gives Louis a look that he knows Louis doesn't see. 

Louis is fucking oblivious.

"And remember this, old friend: you'd be no where without the people from Smalltown, USA. And don't you ever forget it." Zayn smiles and nods at Louis to turn the camera off.

Zayn walks back over toward it, pulling out the tape with his name on it and dropping in Louis'.

"You ready?" Zayn asks, finger hovering over the on button.

"As I'll ever be." Louis says with a dry smile.

Zayn presses the button and the camera begins to roll, shuffling noisily through the film inside.

"Hey, future me. You're probably old as shit now, but I hope you did us proud. Got yourself a boyfriend—you know who—and got the hell out of here. I don't care if we're living in a bit of college debt, or a lot of it, I just care that we're happy, you know?" Louis coughs, clearing his throat.

Zayn smiles as Louis shuffles his feet, awkward.

Louis is cute even when he's not trying to be.

"Our best-friend is Zayn and I swear to Christ, if we're still not best-friends, I'm time-traveling and kicking all of our asses." Louis grins and Zayn laughs, peeking his head in front of the camera to make his own appearance.

Zayn's pretty sure he looks like shit, but he doesn't care at all.

It's not like twenty-seven year old Louis or Zayn will care.

"Fizz is still trying to be us by eating every fucking veggie burger we buy and it's a pain, but inside we sort of adore it because she idolizes us and it's the best feeling in the world."

Zayn fucking knew it.

"Mom is still trying to get us to stop cursing in front of 'innocents', though she says the word fuck more than we do. You're barely keeping your head above the water this semester, but it doesn't fucking matter because you got in to a respected university with your best mate and you're gonna have the time of your life."

Louis is the queen of run-on sentences. Zayn finds it both alluring and hot.

"You better have done well for us, Tomlinson. We can't afford to fuck this up." Louis scoffs. "Good fucking luck, self. Enjoy life. Don't forget all of the people that pushed you, all of the people that you pushed. I love you, au revoir." Louis nods at Zayn.

Zayn feels like his speech is shit compared to Louis, and frowns as he presses the button to stop recording.

"How was it?" Louis asks, grabbing the tape from Zayn.

"It was beautiful." Zayn says, smiling.

Zayn will have to digitize his later because the fucking AV department only had cameras that use tapes.

"Thank you." Louis says. "Yours was shit." He teases.

"Oi!" Zayn says, wounded. 

It couldn't have been _that_ bad...

"Kidding." Louis says, laughing. "It was great."

"Thanks." Zayn scoffs, pushing Louis' shoulder. "Let's have some veggie burgers, okay? I'm fucking starving."

They head inside, Zayn dragging the camera and tripod with him. He sets them down on the table while Louis digs through the fridge.

"I take back what I said about liking Fizz's idolization. She ate my burgers! I can't have fucking anything!" He shouts.

Zayn laughs.

//

Harry nabs a camera from the AV department early. Like way early.

But he doesn't film his admission until the day before it's due.

Of course he should've done it earlier, but he's got procrastination in his blood and he can't help it.

He films it in his room, as boring as it sounds, when his family is out so they won't make fun of him.

He sets the camera—a modern, extensively confusing one—on its tripod and presses record on the remote.

"Hey." He says, awkward. "I'm Harry and you're Harry and we're one of the same. I hope you've done alright for yourself because I am you and I'd like to think we'll be successful." 

Harry shakes his head and gnaws on his lip.

"So, I'm eighteen right now and you're probably watching this in twenty twenty-five, so you're probably twenty-eight. We're quite old and I hope we aged gracefully and our style remains intact.

"Um, my favourite song at the moment is 'Make You Better' by The Decemberists and I don't have a favourite band because I feel like that's discriminatory. I hope you're tall and happy and as funny as I am now because I'm downright _hilarious._  


"I hope we're happily married to that lovely boy in Algebra II because his personality is as pretty as he is beautiful. Louis, you remember him, right? God, that boy..." 

Harry shakes his head.

"We've had, like, one conversation with him, but it was the best one of my life. Of ours, hopefully. We'd make beautiful babies."

Harry sighs, grinning. He could speak about Louis for hours.

"Anyway, your best-friends, in case we've forgotten, are Niall Horan and Liam Payne, who are both bastards, but we love them. Your worst class in school is, unsurprisingly, Algebra II, because Louis sits too close and you can't focus. That's why it's your favourite class. We never did get the balls to ask him out, but we wish we had. We'd have made one hell of a beautiful couple. We'd have been voted homecoming royalty."

Harry shuffles, grabbing his yearbook and flipping it open to Louis' page.

He smiles at it and then raises it to the lens of the camera.

"This is him, in case you've forgotten what teenage Louis looks like. Isn't he gorgeous?" Harry smiles, placing it down. "I hope you have babies running around—more specifically, _his_ and your babies. If not, what are you doing with your life? Get on with it, boy!"

Harry laughs. God, he's hilarious.

"Anyway, I hope you're happy and that we're healthy and not homeless. If we've achieved everything we wanted, congrats! I can't wait to get there."

Harry reaches over, pressing the stop button and collapses back into his chair.

Now that it's finished, he can not do the things he's been putting off for months.

He stands, taking the SD card out of the camera and uploading it to his computer.

He transfers the video onto a CD and burns it, exhausted by the effort.

Finally, he collapses back onto his bed and is nearly asleep when he hears shouting.

"Styles, get your fucking ass up! I'm hungry and you got paid today."

Niall's a thorn in Harry's side, that's for sure.

//

Liam does his late, not by choice, but because Niall won't let him.

Niall's motto is 'Do what you can do today tomorrow!' and Liam hates it.

Liam would say he hated Niall if it wasn't for the fact that he loved him.

So, the night before the videos are due, Liam rushes to write out his speech.

He's told Niall and Harry not to fucking bother him until it's finished and locked himself away in his study.

He finishes writing his speech and prints it, making sure it's nice and orderly.

Liam's a bit of a control-freak and he accepts that about himself. 

Loves it, if he's being honest.

He shuffles the papers and presses play on his camera, letting it roll a few seconds to make sure it's on.

He clears his throat, adjusting his shirt, and beings to read, mostly from memory.

"Hi, future Liam James Payne. If you're watching this, you survived college with Harry! Congrats! It must've been one hell of a journey, especially when Louis was accepted to the same one.

"By now, we're successful, or at least have begun the roller-coaster ride toward it. I wish us the best!

"Your best friends as of now are Harry Styles, a boy with a weird style and lame-ass jokes, and Niall Horan, a boy with too many demands and unrealistic view of the world. They mean the world to you, even if they're a pain. I hope they're still your best-friends because we love them so much.

"Our parents are the best, even if they aren't around a lot. They've always given us everything we've ever needed and more and I hope we cherish them as much as we do now.

"Hopefully we've got a steady partner by then. A boy, girl. It doesn't really matter to us and you know that. Maybe it's that boy from our gym class. Goddamn, I could watch him play floor hockey all day long!"

Liam wipes fake sweat off his forehead.

Zayn Malik is a godsend. An angel. A god.

"He's effing gorgeous. Whoever marries him will be blessed with beautiful everything.

"High school was a difficult time for us; I just hope the same can't be said about college. Farewell, future Liam Payne. I wish us the best. Can't wait to be you!"

Liam stands and takes out the SD card.

He puts it into his computer and uploads the file, burning it onto a disk before the clock strikes eight.

Finally, he's prepared and can iron his gown in a semi-relaxed state. So he does.

He irons that hideous and grotesque yellow robe until the creases are gone and Liam is exhausted.

//

Niall doesn't actually film his until ten minutes before school starts.

He's on the lawn of the school, dressed in his regular attire, with Liam and Harry.

Harry holds his camera and he's struggling to get it situated at the right angle.

"Jesus fucking—"

"Horan, watch your mouth!" The principal walks back, scolding him.

"Technically school hasn't started yet, miss, and I can say whatever I want." Niall says, proud.

He's brilliant. One day, he'll be a rocket scientist or something and he'll make a difference.

Principal Masters just rolls her eyes and walks away, leaving Niall with his camera and his crew.

"Hold it steady, Styles!" Niall says, making sure him hair isn't a mess.

"Okay. You're on in one, two, three—"

"Hi, twenty-eight year old Niall. If you're watching this, it means we survived college with our best bros! That's gotta be exciting, right?

"By now, we're probably holding a semi-decent job and that's all I've ever really wanted for us. I just want to be stable. And happy. And steady with someone.

"I hope you...er, _we_ achieved that and that you're okay. Live long and prosper, you old man." He snickers and nods at his camera man who stops recording.

Niall's pretty sure his speech is the best out of all of them.

"That was solid." Niall muses, reaching for the camera. "Follow me, peasants. We've got some work to do."

Niall leads his crew aka Harry and Liam to the library where they begin the process of burning the video to a CD.

"I love you guys." Niall says as Liam does it for him. "When I win my Oscar, I'll remember to thank you."

Liam looks up, exasperated, and rolls his eyes.

Niall leans forward and smacks a kiss on Liam's cheek, wet and slobbery.

"Ew!" Liam says, indignant. "Disgusting."

"You love it." Niall laughs.

"Whatever." Liam says, but Niall knows what he means.

Liam loves Niall no matter what he says.

//

Ten years pass and, when Zayn looks back, he barely remembers them.

That's probably because he spent a good portion of college blackout drunk and high as fuck.

But at least he had his best-mate at his side, just as inebriated as he was.

Zayn even lives with Louis, a shared apartment in Los Angeles.

Louis, though, doesn't live much with Zayn. Too busy frolicking through daisies with his new secret boyfriend (Zayn's never met him, doesn't even know his _name!_ ("It's a secret, Zaynie, and I'm not spilling." Fucking prick.)). Not that Zayn minds.

Zayn's not jealous at all. Nope. He'd decided he was done caring what (or who, more specifically) Louis did anymore. He's over him.

He pulls on his suit jacket, shrugging his shoulders so it fits, and smiles at himself in the mirror.

He's hot as fuck.

He puts on his shoes and glances back at his empty flat. He misses Louis' touches, like the messy kitchen and the dirty underwear loitering the place.

He's not sure how someone could miss finding dirty underwear in the freezer, but he just does.

So maybe he hasn't moved on. Maybe the only person who has is Louis Tomlinson.

Zayn gathers his invitation and leaves the flat, locking up after himself.

Louis decided he wasn't going approximately one week ago, so Zayn's not worried about him being late.

He gets into his car and drives one hour to the hall his class had rented.

He listens to shitty, sad music the entire way because he is, well, shitty and sad.

//

When Harry arrives at the fire-hall, he's decked out in the most gorgeous clothes.

He wears a printed jumper under a wool coat and tight jeans. God, he feels beautiful in this.

He parks his car and walks inside, invitation clutched tightly between his fingers.

He's nervous. He's a successful musician, but he's nervous!

Going places without his Lou makes him social awkward.

He hands his invite to a girl he recognizes from school and she smiles at him, nervous.

"Hi Cecily." He says, smiling. "Long time no see."

"I wish I could say the same, Mr. Superstar." She rolls her eyes. "Saw you last year live. Was awesome."

"Thanks." He says, bashful.

He's not the best at accepting compliments.

"Head on in." She says, pointing her thumb at the door. "Some of your crew from back in the day's in there."

"Niall?" Harry asks, hopeful.

He hasn't spoken to Niall in what feels like _years!_  


It's only been a few months, really, but still.  
"Liam." She says and Harry deflates a bit. Not much, but a little.

"Oh, okay." He says, smile still there. "Thanks again!"

Harry pushes through the door and scoffs at the decorations.

It's like he's back at his prom where he went dateless all over again.

Immediately, he spots Liam.

He looks pretty great for being an alcoholic.

"Liam." Harry says, softly, amicable.

He's always been too kind.

"Harry, hey!" Liam says, smiling.

Harry frowns at the straight words and the smell of gum, not whiskey, on his breath. 

"Are you sober?" Harry asks, smile curling at the edge of his lip.

"Yeah." Liam admits with a grin.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a coin.

"A year and a half." 

Liam had been an alcoholic for four years and Harry had stuck by his side until he'd been forced to go. 

Liam had forced him to leave.

"Liam!" Harry shouts, happy.

Harry knew that Liam could do it!

"I'm so proud of you!"

Harry wants to crush Liam in a hug, so he does.

Liam resists a bit like he always has, but doesn't push Harry off of him.

"Thank you." Liam says, holding Harry after a moment. "For believing in me when no one else did."

"No problem." Harry says, still grinning hard.

He's so achingly proud of his friend that he says it again.

"I'm so goddamn proud of you."

"I should say the same." Liam scoffs. "You're world famous!"

"Nah," Harry says. "I'm just well known."

"Stop being modest, H."

Harry's not being modest. He's being honest.

Liam goes to speak again, but his eyes are across the room.

Harry turns, staring blatantly at the corner where Liam is.

"Zayn Malik." Harry grins. "You're nearly thirty but your high school crush remains unrequited?"

"He's beautiful, Har, even with a shaved head." Liam sighs, sipping on a soda.

"I can't disagree with you." Harry admits.

Zayn Malik is and will always be a literal angel.

"He doesn't even know my name." Liam shakes his head. "He's too enamoured with his best-friend."

"Louis?" Harry says, sharp.

His face is pale. He feels sort of angry, the kind of angry Harry Styles doesn't get.

His Louis is being pined after by his best-friend? How has no one noticed?

"Yeah." Liam looks at Harry, suspicious, but doesn't mention Harry's quick reply.

Harry thanks god for Liam's ability to know when to not bring something up.

"I'm gonna set you up." Harry announces before he stalks across the gymnasium, leaving Liam floundering behind him.

//

Liam gapes at Harry's back, watching his bun disappear into the crowd.

He has the sudden urge to pour liquor into his cup, but he stomps the thought out before he can even really think about it.

He's come too far to break nineteen months of sobriety over a _boy_.

"Liam!"

Liam turns, nearly dropping his cup when he's crushed in a hug.

He looks down at Niall's blond hair and smiles, hugging him back.

"My peasant!"

Liam rolls his eyes.

"I'm not your peasant."

"Yes, you are. Come along, peasant, I spotted Harry speaking with your soulmate."

"No!" Liam says, sharp and quick. "I, uh, already spoke to Harry."

"Yeah?" Niall says. "Did he happen to tell you he's engaged?"

"What?" Liam frowns.

"Yeah! To some guy we went to school with!" Niall shrugs.

"Louis?" Liam asks, recalling Harry's sharp pronunciation of his name.

"Yeah, I think so."

Niall grabs a can of soda from the bucket of ice next to Liam's leg and pops it open, slurping up the liquid sugar bubbling out before it pours all over his fingers.

"You're going to get diabetes if you drink too much soda." Liam snarks. "Or become obese."

"Like I care." Niall laughs. "My wife loves me for who I am."

"How is she, by the way? Still lovely?"

Niall's wife, Natalia, is lovely. She's good-hearted and kind, something Niall needs to even his crazy out.

"Of course." Niall scoffs. "She's sick, poor thing. The flu."

"I hope she gets well soon." Liam's not sure what to say, but he figures that'll work.

And it does.

"Will do." Niall smirks, catching Liam glancing at Zayn and Harry. "You still in love with Zayn?"

"Pshh no." Liam rolls his eyes, scoffing. "No."

"I'm gonna go talk to him." Niall says with a tone of finality. "Don't try to stop me."

Liam watches Niall cross the room, gaping.

He can't believe those people were his best friends.

What was he thinking?

//

Niall crosses the room quickly, despite the crowds of high-school burn outs in his way. He waits for a lull in Harry and Zayn's conversation and then he shoves his shoulder into Harry's arm, faking an accident.

"Sorry!" Niall squeals, looking up.

"Niall!" Harry coos. "It's been too long!"

"It's only been, like, two months, dude."

Niall had been on a trip with his wife in France and had forbad any contact from anyone.

It had worked, mostly.

"I missed you!" Harry says and then he seems to remember the god they're standing next to. "Oh, Niall, you remember Zayn, don't you?"

"How could I not?" Niall laughs. "I'm Niall."

"I know." Zayn smiles, shy.

"Are you lads excited to see your tapes?"

"What tapes?" Harry says, frowning.

"The time capsule tapes?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah! I dug 'em out of that godforsaken wall yesterday."

Niall's on the reunion committee. As soon as he was back from Lille, they called him up and gave him his jobs.

He, of course, procrastinated the shit out of them.

"We're gonna watch all of them?" Harry frowns. "That'll take a long time."

"There's stations." Niall says. "I set those up as well."

"Oh. Cool." Zayn says, shrugging.

"Liam's not going to like that." Harry admits. "Don't tell him."

"I hadn't planned on it. I watched his tape before he sent it in and nearly died laughing."

Niall hadn't previously thought that Liam could reach that level of embarrassing. After the tape, though, nothing Liam could do would surprise Niall. Not anymore.

"What was in it?" Zayn asks. "I know this Liam Payne and I would like to know."

"Secret." Niall quirks a grin. "You'll just have to wait and see. His is up first in about...ten minutes."

Niall can't fucking wait until Liam reveals just how deep his fetishes get.

Fucking floor-hockey deep.

They keep the conversation going until Cecily Matthews tells everyone to go to their assigned seats over the microphone.

Niall rubs his hands together mischievously as he walks to his table, his companions at his side.

He sits at the head of his table, the center of attention, and grins.

"Get ready, guys, because it's been exactly ten years today. I hope you've all achieved what you set out to do!" Cecily says before she rushes to her own seat.

The lights dim and several different tapes around the room begin to play.

The tables are set far enough apart that the words sound like a hushed garble under eighteen-year-old Liam Payne's voice.

"Oh, fucking shit." Niall hears Liam say. "Oh, fuck fuck fuck."

Liam stands, rushing out of the hall as he himself begins to say how he could watch Zayn play floor hockey all day long.

Niall cackles when Zayn turns red, a hideously beautiful colour on him.

"Is this...does he...what." Zayn stammers, low.

"He's smitten, still, and it's been ten years." Harry says. "Sorta sweet, isn't it?"

"Sorta? It's hella sweet." Niall says.

He cringes after it comes out, regretting the entire sentence.

"Don't say it, peasant." Niall warns.

"You said 'hella'." Harry says, laughing.

His video plays next.

Niall laughs his ass off, smacking his knee so hard off the underside of the table that he's sure he bleeds.

He doesn't care. He's too focused on the videos.

His friends were fucking hilarious and Niall had no idea. What a pity.

"Oh, Christ." Niall says, wiping at his eyes. "'Get on with it, boy!'" He mocks. "Oh, fucking Christ."

"Leave me alone." Harry pouts, crossing his arms.

"Aren't you engaged to a Louis?" Niall asks, frowning. "Is it this Louis? It must be."

Harry turns and stares at him, open-mouthed.

"How do you know that?! It's a secret!"

"You're a celebrity, for fuck's sake. Your life is splattered across the tabloids." Niall rolls his eyes. "You act is if I invaded your privacy by glancing at the cover of a magazine while buying lady things for Natalia."

Harry doesn't say anything, just turns and watches Zayn's video.

Zayn's is chill, like he is.

Niall thinks it's his least favourite because it just isn't funny.

"Okay, bitches, get ready to be awed." Niall says, looking proud.

His speech is a master piece.

He'd rewatched it before he set the tables up and it was still as glorious as it was back then.

Short, sweet, to the point, and beautiful.

"Lovely." Harry says, simple. "That is so beyond lovely."

"I agree." Zayn grins.

"Thank you, peasants. Master appreciates your praise." Niall grins. "Watch this one! Ooh!"

Louis' face shows up on the screen and Niall squeals.

Niall's always wished to be closer to Louis. Louis is cool as fuck.

"Louis," Harry says, smiling softly, at the same time Zayn does.

Niall gasps when he realizes they both sound the same way: in love.

Fucking angel-Zayn and man bun-Harry are in love with the same dude, only one of them is engaged to him and the other is pining over him.

When did Niall become a main character in a soap opera?

The screen flickers and turns off, drenching them in pale darkness.

"I'm gonna go find Liam." Niall says. "He might be a tad pissed."

"Let me." Zayn says, looking unsure.

"Are you sure, mate? I totally got it—"

"I'm sure." Zayn says, firm.

He gets up from the table and walks away, a dark blip in a dark room full of voices of people Niall barely knew.

//

Zayn's not sure what he's going to say when he finds Liam.

Probably something like 'How could you not _tell_ me?' or 'I had no fucking idea!'.

Zayn would've liked him—tall, strong, boy-next door pretty—except he'd been hung up on his ignorant fuck of a best-friend.

Well that ends here.

Louis is engaged to Harry fucking Styles and Zayn won't ruin that.

He'll just have to get over his Louis fetish. Simple.

Zayn ducks down the hallway opposite the bathrooms and leaves the building, finding Liam outside.

Liam paces back and forth, unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"Hey," Zayn says after a minute.

Liam startles easily, it seems, because he screeches and the cigarette falls from between his lips.

"Christ." He shouts, hand over his chest. "Trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I should say the same." Zayn murmurs.

Liam pulls out his pack and grabs another, putting it between his lips but not lighting it.

"Need a light?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah, please." Liam nods.

Zayn pulls out his lighter and lights the thing, doing the same for his own.

"That was ten years ago." Liam says after a while.

"Okay." Zayn says, blowing smoke into the clear air above his head.

He likes watching it diffuse into the less-toxic air around it. It relaxes him.

"I mean, you're just as gorgeous as I remember, but, like, the thing is, I hadn't planned on saying anything because, you know, it's whatever." Liam says between exhales. "But that choice was taken away from me."

"Can we not be efficient grown-ups for a moment?" Zayn asks, because he's tired from Liam's verbal dancing.

Liam nods, looking skeptical, and Zayn smiles.

"Pretend we're eighteen again." Zayn stubs his cigarette into the wall behind him, tossing it into the tray.

"Um, sure." Liam says, stomping his under his boot and pulling out another.

Zayn lights this one for him as well.

"If I wasn't so enamoured with Louis, would you ask me to prom?" Zayn asks.

Liam looks at him, a deer in headlights, before he stammers nervously.

"High school Liam needs to get his shit together." Zayn muses.

"Yes." Liam says, recovering. "I would've."

"Then do it." Zayn says, challenging.

Liam Payne better fucking do it.

Zayn needs this.

"What?" Liam asks. "This isn't prom--this is our reunion!"

"What're you talking about?" Zayn says.

He wishes Liam would just get his head out of his ass and play along.

"Ugh!" Liam says, loud, squishing the butt of his cigarette under his boot. "I feel ridiculous asking you to a prom that happened ten years ago."

"Don't. It's happening now, eighteen year old Liam Payne, so ask. I'm dateless and want to dance."

"Will you...Will you go to prom with me?" Liam asks, struggling.

His face is red with embarrassment and Zayn coos, grinning.

"Of course!" He laughs. "Who could say no to that face?" Zayn pinches Liam's cheeks.

"Stop," Liam whines, but it's without force.

Zayn laughs harder, feeling the beginning of scruff underneath his fingers.

"Let's go dance. I fucking love this song." Zayn grabs Liam's arm and leads him inside, sort of dancing to the shitty Lady Antebellum song he can hear.

//

Harry watches Zayn and Liam dance with a frown.

He wants to dance. He wants to hold someone (Louis) close and grab their hips, singing in their ear and stepping on their toes. He wants someone (Louis) to hold him back and kiss his neck and tell him to shut the fuck up.

But Louis isn't here because he didn't want to go.

And now Harry's dance partner-less.

He sips on the champagne in front of him, praying to whoever resides in heaven for Louis to show up.

Harry would never not be appreciative if that happened.

And, thankfully, someone must've read Harry's pity party invitation.

Louis walks in, crashing the party as 'Seven Nation Army' by The White Stripes plays, Louis' favourite song.

Harry stands and greets him halfway, hugging him tight.

"I missed you." Harry says into his neck. "I'm so glad you came."

"I'm glad they serve veggie burgers here." Louis says back and Harry grins into his neck, squeezing him.

"Me, too." Harry says, relieved.

He's so happy Louis is here.

They dance until their legs ache, until another slow song comes on ('Say Something' by A Great Big World) and then they dance as one, legs trapped against each other, pressed so tightly that Harry can't tell where he starts and Louis ends.

It's the best moment of Harry's life.

He can't believe he's so lucky.

And neither can Liam.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me how shitty it was, please. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated xx


End file.
